Kids

Each room

becomes sunny

and,

since all my blinks are bright,

sandy ice rocks mute the system;

no sounds

I shall provide.

Distant voices

hear me out, 

and they all agree ensemble,

as now

I’m supposed to start rumbling 

in the urban jungle.

There’s that moment

in the hood 

when

friendly stray dogs come

and kiss

and you’re thinking how to go out

only with a set of keys.

Heavy eyelids,

greasy night meals

may not be the perfect context,

like Cobain my throat is led sprayed;

I just might be dumb 

or happy.

Fish tank

warm winds

keep my lips

heavily intoxicated;

I imagine all this freshness

in a safe zone illustrated.